


His Sweet Kiss

by FrozenHearts



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Dopplers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Geralt is soft for Jaskier okay, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Cannibalism, Implied Relationships, Introspection, Kissing, M/M, Mild Blood, Monsters, Protective Roach, Protectiveness, Rough Kissing, Witcher Contracts, protective Geralt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:01:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22038973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrozenHearts/pseuds/FrozenHearts
Summary: Geralt comes back to camp after hunting a monster only to find Jaskier entangled with....... himself?
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion/Other(s)
Comments: 32
Kudos: 2690
Collections: GERALT AND JASKIER ARE FUCKING GAY





	His Sweet Kiss

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Bewitchered](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21994519) by [Carcosa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carcosa/pseuds/Carcosa). 



> Based off chapter 2 of "Bewitchered" by Carcosa
> 
> I did fiddle around a bit with the timeline of that story to write this but enjoy anyway and go read Carcosa'a story, it's so exciting!!

Geralt groaned as he dragged his feet; the swamps were never his favorite place to hunt, but the town that offered the contract wasn't on the main road either. Mud seeped through his boots, soaking his feet to the bone and Geralt knew, as he managed to slice another Drowner in half that the leather soles were ruined. The Drowner he'd sliced burst in an array of blue skin and stinking juices, splattering Geralt's armor and face. 

"Shit," he muttered under his breath, spitting out chunks of Drowner meat that had managed to get into his mouth. Jaskier would definitely not want to kiss him later; the bard always took pride in his appearance, from the sweep of his brown hair to the ruffles of his nicely pressed shirts and pants- Jaskier wanted people to please, whether it be with his singing or his clothes. 

Much to his chagrin, Geralt found himself humming Jaskier's most recent ballad under his breath as he preyed through the tall swamp grass, happy to be closer to camp as his medallion hummed against his chest, attuned to Roach's presence after all these years. The glow of the fire was soft in the dark, and Geralt paused as he heard the bard's ever familiar voice ringing through the air.

".... ere in Pasoda-" Jaskier sang, followed by the strum of his lute, "you'd be wise to be-"

Geralt crouched down in his spot, smiling to himself as he remembered his and Jaskier's first meeting- it was the same song he was singing back then too, followed by a shared mug of ale and how he called for-

"Geralt! You're back!" Jaskier's lute twanged obnoxiously and Geralt froze- had Jaskier seen him hiding? Roach snorted at the bard, but Geralt figured it couldn't be; while Jaskier had become more attuned to being on the road over time, his senses were still at a regular human level. 

"What's the matter?" Jaskier asked with a keen, "Is something wrong?" Do we have to go-"

Okay, so Jaskier was definitely talking to someone- the question was who? One quick glance and Geralt noticed his medallion vibrating violently against his armor, the small wolf head clanging with excitement.

"Fuck," Geralt hissed as he heard the stranger say in a deep, gruff voice, his own voice, a solid "No," followed by Jaskier's usual babbling. In the background, Roach neighed, her hooves stomping grooves into the wet marshland, but soon, Jaskier's voice was cut off, a note of surprise hanging in the air.

Well. Double fuck.

Cracking his jaw, Geralt reached for his sword; the silver sang as he slid the weapon from the sheath and he gripped the hilt tight enough to bruise his palms as he began stalking forward. The fire was brighter as he went, and just as he was about to break into the clearing he caught his horse's heavy stare.

Roach was still whinnying, bobbing her head in frustration at whatever was happening in front of the fire. Shadows danced along the ground, merging and breaking as if they danced in a ballroom for all the world to see. Steeling himself, Geralt took a step forward, narrowing his eyes as he finally saw what was happening:

Jaskier was still present, just where Geralt had left him, although rather than sitting on the tree stump nearby he was practically cowering, falling backwards as whoever it was, whatever was impersonating Geralt was looming over the bard. White hair obscured both parties as it fell over the imposter's face, armor dinked and dented from battle just as Geralt's was. Rough giant hands had Jaskier's face in place as it moved, fingers digging roughly into his brown hair as it practically smothered the bard with it's body. 

A moment of panic overtook Geralt as he heard their messy kissing, tongues and saliva flying everywhere, the imposter trying to smother Jaskier's protests until the bard had no choice but to keep kissing if he wanted to breathe. 

Geralt had to give it to the imposter though- they had Geralt's likeness down impeccably, from the roots of his white hair to his muddy boots and Jaskier had been fine until halfway through. Geralt liked to think Jaskier knew him fairly well after all their travels together, so for Jaskier to be caught off guard after the imposter initiated the kiss told Geralt they knew what they were doing. 

Fixing his grip on his sword, Geralt broke through the brush, stalking forward with his sword until he had it just under the imposter's chin. Jaskier gasped audibly as he and the stranger were finally broken apart, spit stringy on his bottom lip as he wheezed for breath. 

"White Wolf," the imposter spat, and Geralt had to take a moment to remember that this was not him. This was an evil being who took advantage in the dark and the thing laughed as Geralt pushed his sword higher under its chin. "Was thinking you couldn't be too far behind if the bard was here."

"What do you want with him." 

The imposter shrugged, "Good singer, he is. Wanted to see if he was as good a lay as the court claimed to be."

Jaskier surprisingly (and smartly) didn't say anything, scuttling back from the thing until he was sitting near Roach. The horse had calmed her cries and stopped stomping enough for Jaskier to rest against her leg.

"Couldn't catch a break with another Doppler?" Geralt barked.

The doppler shrugged, "Was curious. And his singing was so lovely- figured I would take my chance while you were gone."

"Because that's the normal thing to do."

The doppler beamed and Geralt bristled. It was odd seeing himself like this, seeing how dirty and practically feral he was and it made him wonder.

Was this how other people saw him? How Jaskier might see him? Dopplers knew every inch, every taste, thought or smell a person experienced in order to change and imitate- Geralt always thought himself okay on most fronts and Jaskier was one of the few to keep up with him and the first to not really mind as long as he got a song out of it-

"Oooh, is the Butcher of Blaviken worried about the bard?" the doppler teased, pulling Geralt out of his thoughts, "I'll take him off your hands- he's lean, but he'll make a tasty meal-"

With a loud squelch, Geralt drove his sword through the doppler's neck, the creature reverting back to its form as its body fell lifeless next to the fire. Chest heaving, Geralt left the sword in the body, making a mental note to clean it later as he looked towards Roach.

Towards Jaskier. 

Sighing, Geralt scrubbed his face with his hand, flicking blood and swamp water off his hands as kicked at the doppler.

"I should have been here," was all Geralt found he could say, shaking his head with guilt, "Dopplers.... dopplers are nasty."

"I'll agree to that," Jaskier said softly, quiet enough that even with his enhanced hearing that Geralt almost missed it, "didn't taste like you after a bit."

Bewildered, Geralt picked up his head. Roach seemed to support his surprise, her nose sniffing loudly into Jaskier's hair.

The bard shrugged, "You.... have a very distinct flavor is all."

Blinking owlishly, Geralt grunted, "And you know just from kissing me?"

Jaskier at least had enough sense to be embarrassed, knocking his forehead into Roach's knee as he groaned. In the light of the fire his face looked flushed, cheeks pinched red as he wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. 

"You just have... a very specific taste, I suppose. When... when we kiss," Jaskier muttered into Roach, reaching up with a delicate hand to pet her shin.

Pursing his lips, Geralt crossed his arms. His knees ached and he figured he should probably sit down, he figured Jaskier was probably intimidated with how he stood so strongly over a dead fucking body, but he raised an eyebrow, turning to watch as Jaskier tried to distract himself with petting Roach. He could see in the shadow how Jaskier's hand shivered ever so slightly, but he was glad Roach was there, he was glad that Jaskier seemed to be a bit calmer with the horse near. 

"And what would you say I tasted like?" Geralt finally said.

Jaskier shrugged, "Like.... saffron, I think."

"You think?"

A nod, and the bard added, "Saffron... and pine needles. Sure, there's also some otherworldly thing to it- probably due to your whole being a Witcher thing-"

Geralt laughed as Roach snorted and Jaskier gave her a pointed look and a soft "Don't even think about, girl-"

As Jaskier derailed his point, speaking softly to Roach as he tried to settle his trembling hands, Geralt took a deliberate step forward, hands down and open at his sides.

Jaskier turned at the noise, confusion evident in his eyes as he managed a small "Geralt?" And Geralt felt his chest constricting, his lungs ache as he tried to take a deep breath. 

"Can I come closer, Jaskier?" Geralt asked before the bard nodded, and the witcher kept walking until he was right in front of him, joints creaking as he moved to kneel in front of him. There was a slight edge in Jaskier's gaze, blue eyes sharp as he studied Geralt's form. 

Not so unlike an animal being hunted, Geralt thought. 

Slowly, Geralt held a hand out, palm facing skyward and he pulled off his glove on finger at a time, letting the leather fall in a heap on the ground next to him. 

"Okay, what are you doing?" Jaskier asked, gaze flicking between Geralt and his hand. He was still practically clinging to Roach's leg, but Roach was settled, almost leaning into Jaskier in turn. 

"You said the doppler tasted different than me," Geralt pointed out, "Did we feel different too?"

Silence hung between them as Geralt spoke, letting Jaskier take his time.

After what felt like an eternity, Jaskier finally said, "He was rougher than you usually are. Thought he was going to crush my skull while.... while...."

"While kissing you," Geralt finished for him.

Jaskier nodded, licking his lips and Geralt took it as invitation to move his hand from hanging in the air to rest on Jaskier's cheek, palm curved along his jaw as he wiped a stray tear off Jaskier's face with his thumb, just under his eye. 

Honestly, Geralt didn't blame him for starting to cry. Monsters were no joke and if he was being honest, the witcher was astounded with just how much Jaskier took in stride while travelling with him. 

Geralt grunted as Jaskier let go of Roach to practically lunge at him, thin arms wrapping around his neck as nimble fingers fisted the collar of his shirt so tight the seams threatened to rip. Jaskier buried his face in the crook of Geralt's neck, hot tears flowing into the dip of Geralt's collarbone. 

"It's okay," Geralt shushed him, carding his hands through Jaskier's hair as he sniffed and sobbed and generally got snot on him. 

Jaskier muttered something unintelligible into Geralt's shoulder, twisting his shirt into a tighter hug.

"What was that?" Geralt asked with slight amusement.

With a loud sniff, the bard pulled away, "I said he didn't taste like you."

"Hmmm. Said that already."

"Like ash. Ugh, it's disgusting, Geralt."

Geralt stopped petting his hair, pulling away slightly to study Jaskier's face. His eyes were glossy and his nose was red; his cheeks were soft as he took the bard's face in his hands and finally kissed him. 

Jaskier's lips were salty from crying but there was an undertone of apple, sweet and savory and his mouth was soft against his own, and Geralt felt Jaskier practically melt into him as they kept going long enough before breaking apart for a breath of fresh air. 

"Better?" Geralt grumbled, brushing stray strands of hair out of Jaskier's eyes.

"Well," Jaskier blushed, "it was definitely you."

Geralt cocked his head as Roach snorted, her tail swishing absentmindedly.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Geralt asked.

"Well, not to brag or anything," Jaskier shrugged, eyes staring at the fire just over Geralt's shoulder, "but most of the men and women who kiss me don't do it in front of a dead body."

"How boring," Geralt drawled, pulling Jaskier closer to him, pressing a chaste kiss daringly against Jaskier's forehead.

Geralt was glad Jaskier was safe, allowing the bard to cling to him for a little longer before Roach made a noise, stomping her hooves impatiently and Geralt gave Jaskier one last squeeze before leading the bard to one of their bedrolls and making sure he was settled, then moving to dispose of the doppler.

He'd tell the town about the unfinished contract in the morning. 


End file.
